Dude. We took the kids to Las Vegas for the weekend. I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.

We’re home now.

Warning: Shameful admission to follow.

So, last night? Getting ready for bed? I accidentally used Dane’s toothbrush.

It was almost brand-new, and it’s neon yellow, and I think it must have been calling to my subconscious, because I picked the thing up and brushed like three swipes before I even noticed it wasn’t mine. And then I spit out all the toothpaste, washed the brush, washed out my mouth, and started all over again with my own toothbrush. Not so much because I care about the germs or whatever, but because I felt just a wee little bit guilty.

So I sort of dried his toothbrush and put it back in the medicine cabinet, and then while I was waiting for him to brush his teeth I prepared a little speech about how, you know, we don’t need to be petty about someone else mistakenly—and occasionally! very occasionally!—using our toothbrush (and I was not going to mention anything about anyone else accidentally using MY toothbrush every day for weeks on end, because it’s not healthy to keep score).

But he just brushed his teeth and smiled at me and said goodnight. Possibly he didn’t notice. Possibly he still has no idea. (Well, except NOW he does, seeing as this here blog isn’t exactly unknown to him.) Or possibly he’s just a better person than I am and doesn’t so much worry about little things like toothbrush use.

I am properly ashamed. And now I’m going to open a new toothbrush for myself, because don’t you think I deserve a clean shiny toothbrush after all that?

I thought so.

Today at the park:
“Mama, can you ask that dog over there to lick me?”

Someone asked me for dinner ideas the other day. As if I’m cooking dinner lately. I spent the entire day today in my pajama yoga pants. I could suggest some Lazy Mom dinner ideas, but I suspect she’s already thought of nut butter sandwiches and a can of soup. Maybe I’ll lend her a cookbook with a few pages marked.

Instead of getting dressed, I worked on a couple of writing projects; I’ve got two longer-term (and slightly longer format) projects that needed attention, plus one shorter essay I’ve been carrying around in my head and wanted to get down. Except when I got it down, it turned out that I only had about two thirds of an essay in my head; I only have a vague idea of how to wrap it up. Something to think about when I can’t fall asleep tonight, I suppose.

Fine, fine, apparently no one else wants to defend bribing their children as a viable parenting strategy. I don’t either, of course—I’m just in favor of having actual evidence of a trend before publishing a trend story. I’m also in favor of providing meaningful guidance in articles that seek to chastise parents, and, come to think of it, I’m not really a fan of media attempts to either make parents feel guilty, or make parents feel better about themselves at the expense of other parents.

Is it odd that I felt like I had to say, “You all know I don’t actually bribe my kids, right?” after complaining about how an article was presented? Hmmm…

Did you see this yesterday? You probably did, as it was all over Yahoo news and whatnot for half the day: “Many parents admit they bribe their kids.” Even given the actual events in the world yesterday, this was apparently breaking news.

Here’s the main idea, from the first paragraph: “Call it a reward, or just “bribery.” Whichever it is, many parents today readily admit to buying off their children…”

And, of course, the all-important comparison: “Often, the rewards are for behaviors their own parents would have simply expected, just because they said so.”

Articles like this one crack me up. Parents are bribing their kids? Really? Which parents? How many? And how do you know this trend is on the rise? No, the article isn’t interested in providing factual information—anecdotes and conjecture will do!

There is Expert Advice—because you aren’t an expert on your own child! You can’t be expected to know what your own progeny will respond to! Oh no! You need such sage tidbits as “make sure that they [the rewards] match the behavior,” and “emphasize the benefits of just getting it done” without rewards.

Nothing more specific, of course—you can’t expect these experts to tell you how much is too much, or when material reinforcement might be appropriate, or what to do with the child who melts down because she doesn’t get an ice cream cone as a reward for brushing her teeth. (Well, of course not! Those questions would depend on your individual situation; you’ll have to use your best judgment. So… what did we need the expert for, again?)

There’s also the question of language; while most parenting tomes would call rewarding good behavior “positive reinforcement” (a bribe would typically be a reward given ahead of time, in an effort to induce the desired behavior), this article is content to label all material rewards “bribes.” Praise, however, is recommended (guess no one’s read Punished By Rewards or the like).

But here’s my real question: am I supposed to feel guilty (“oh crap, I shouldn’t have given the kids lollipops after that last trip to the pediatrician”) or relieved (“at least I’m not offering up a Wii if my kid scores a soccer goal”)? And does either one do me or my kids any good?

I did get one thing from this little reading adventure. Tomorrow morning, we get to attend an adoption hearing—one of our favorite two-year-olds on the planet and her parents will have their adoption finalized. And I will be bringing jelly beans to reward my children for sitting relatively still and quiet during the main event. I would never have thought of it on my own, so… thanks, bribery article! Hey, at least it’s not a Wii, right?

The thoughtful and generous (and about to be married!) Celebrate Woo-Woo has awarded me a Thinking Blogger Award! I feel like I ought to post something thoughtful; a book review, perhaps? Or maybe we’ll stick with more laundry/messy house/nausea chatter.

Regardless of the miniscule number of thought-provoking posts around here, I do read a great number of thought-provoking blogs—so very thought-provoking, in fact, that many of them have already been graced with Thinking Blogger Awards. In an attempt to avoid replication, then, I’ll bestow just three:

First, to Kate, who has written lately about marriage and commitment and conflict-resolution, as well as the regular stuff (thumping people on the head and Paris).

To Rebecca, who has given some thought recently to why she started homeschooling, and who always has reading material to suggest.

And to Heather, who has been thinking of late about the feminine aspects of God. Do you have insight to offer?

There you are. Check them out if you need a little extra thought tonight! Thinking Bloggers: choose five blogs to award, and link to the original Thinking Blogger Award post in your own post.

Quiet Time has gotten away from me again. It never seems to last long enough to accomplish anything, so I’ve got all these little notes lying around about things I might want to write or do When I Have Time. And… WHEN will that be?

I don’t know exactly what the time crunch is about right now—Audrey’s sleeping her regular nap (you know, somewhere between twelve minutes and two hours), and the older kids are staying put in their Quiet Time Places doing their Quiet Time Things, but all I ever manage to do is put Audrey down, pee, turn on the computer, make something to eat, take one bite, gag, throw away the food, pee again, check email, make something else to eat, take one bite, swallow, take a second bite, gag, throw the food away outside so as never to have to smell it again, pee again, open the word processor, and—hey!—Audrey’s awake. Drat. Where does the time go?

Maybe it’s a priority issue. Right now I may be over-prioritizing 1.) Lolling About and 2.) Not Vomiting, and under-prioritizing 1) Anything Productive and 2.) Thought.

Or maybe I need to come up with another time of day in which to get things done.

On the bright side, I have discovered that I can eat both white flour (bread! bagels! muffins!) and also balsamic vinegar (but not on the bagels or muffins) without being sick! If only either of those had any nutritional value…

Mama C-ta asked:
“…I am curious to know what kind of vitamins you take – well, when you aren’t throwing up. If I had to do the pregnancy bit again I think I’d want to skip the Dr Rx prenatals and go w/something better…
Oh and I’ve been meaning to ask you if you had/will have a home birth.”

First, the easy one (er, the one where I’m sure I won’t inadvertently offend anyone): the vitamins. Right now, I’ve got a bottle of wild oats store brand prenatal vitamins, vegetarian formula, no allergens. But when I’ve got a couple of extra grocery dollars lying around, I do buy a food-based prenatal (something like this).

And on to the birth question. I’m surprised I haven’t mentioned it before, but yes, all of our children have been born at home, with the assistance of our lovely and talented midwives.

When people learn that we birth at home, the response is almost always: “You’re so brave,” said in a tone that suggests “brave” might be a synonym for “foolish.” So I’ll tell you right now: we are not brave. Not by a long shot. We do, however, believe in evidence-based care—that is, we make decisions about our health care based on the best available research; we don’t do things just because they’re routine, or because the malpractice insurer thinks it best, or because an HMO will pay for this option but not that one.

The “brave” comment is typically followed up with: “And you’re so lucky that everything turned out all right!” I have been blessed, it is true, with less-difficult labors. But lucky? Depending on whose numbers you prefer, 80-95% of labors in this country would result in healthy deliveries without any intervention whatsoever. I’m not lucky, I’m typical.

Then, depending on who’s asking, I get either a litany of what if’s, or a long and detailed explanation of why the person asking couldn’t have had a home birth herself.

The what-if’s would be better directed at a midwife, as the answers often depend on your local regulations (the ease and speed of emergency transfer, for instance, depends on your medical community’s attitude toward midwives and out-of-hospital birth; for another example, how a midwife would deal with various minor complications might depend on what medications or equipment she’s legally permitted or required to carry).

As to whether anyone else can or should give birth at home: I believe that given the opportunity, folks will generally make the best choices available for their unique circumstances—which means that I’m not especially invested in where anyone else gives birth, though I’m always willing to provide information.

On that note, should you wish to do further research on the subject:

A Good Birth, A Safe Birth (Third Revised Edition), by Diana Korte and Roberta M. Scaer
Thinking Woman’s Guide to a Better Birth, by Henci Goer
Complete Book of Pregnancy and Childbirth (Revised), by Sheila Kitzinger

Citizens for Midwifery (especially the Resources page)
American College of Obstetrics & Gynecology’s statement in opposition to out-of-hospital birth (gee, no surprise there), followed by the American College of Nurse-Midwives’ response

Those of you who also birth at home: do other resources or articles of interest spring to mind? Feel free to link in the comments section.

And now, I’ll open the floor to questions, comments, and general conversation. (Now, watch, no one will comment at all…)

Owen sums up his Easter experience:

“My tummy is full of too many jellybeans. That means it’s time for bed.”

Indeed.